Persistence
by foREVerhauntingme
Summary: For ideas that must come out. Mostly involving Italy and Romano, but that won't be all. Rating will go up or down depending on chapter.
1. Arise Chapter 5?

_Welcome to **Persistence**! Named rightly so as I am overwhelmed by ideas that have no story base or time to become!_

_Yes, this is going to be one of those 'collection of ideas and random chapters' things. I find them interesting and have, like, two or three in my favorites because they really are such a smart idea when you end up in a position like me, with too much in and not enough out._

_To start us off, i have a random chapter from my 'once a one-shot now (eventually) a chapter story', **Arise **(told ya i had an idea for it~). Now, don't get too excited because this is about all i actually have typed out for that story. Seriously. I suck. But, if you want to use your imagination, this would be like...chapter 5 or 6 i think. _

_To really understand,** i would suggest you read Arise** and then this, but you don't have to. That third paragraph there...ya that one, it's a 'think back' paragraph. Sums up what happened. _

_So, if you're tired of my blabbering, enjoy~_

* * *

Lovino heaved a heavy sigh as he slid the key into the lock and turned it. This day could not get any worse. After all, being stalked by a Spaniard was enough, wasn't it? On top of that, the bastard was a fucking wolf. A_ fucking wolf!_ Ugh…stupid, fucking worthless day.

He opened the door to the delicious smell of Liz's cooking and the loving tunes of Roderich at the piano, ah how perfect. Now this could improve his day. "Liz! Rod! I'm home!" Sure enough, the sound of the oven shutting was followed by the soft slapping of socks against hardwood floors as Elizaveta came around the corner. "Lovi! Did you have fun with your friend?" Lovino grimaced. "Not exactly. The bastard is…ugh." He slid off his shoes at the door and unbuttoned his jacket, which Liz helped him to pull off. "I'm just going to go see Feli." Liz's smile widened. "Okay dear~ He asked about you today. I told him you were with a friend. Diner should be ready in an hour." Lovino nodded, before turning towards the stairs.

On his way up, he couldn't help but think back through everything that had happened in the past two months. He goes out on business to Spain, stays out too late, gets attacked by a fucking animal that turns out to be a werewolf claiming that they were meant to be 'mates', he's stuck in the hospital unconscious for three weeks before he finally was able to wake up and get back to his life (aka freaked out housemates/sitters/friends and little brother that couldn't even really understand why he was gone in the first place) and then the fucking Spaniard _stalks_ him back to Italy in time for his first full moon. On top of that, Feliciano seemed to have somehow known or something because he _finally_ seemed to trust him again after hours and hours of holding his hand and hoping he would stop panicking for no reason.

"Now that stupid bastard won't leave me alone. You'd think a few uninterested meetings would scare him away…" Of course not, the fucker. Lovino reached the top landing and went to his brother's door, quickly sliding on the slippers before softly knocking his rhythm, waiting exactly six seconds and then opening the door. "Feli? I'm home."

Feliciano was sitting on his stool with a large canvas in front of him, busying himself with making slow, delicate green strokes down the bottom edge. The older Italian stepped into the room and closed the door behind him. "Whatcha painting, Feli?" The younger didn't respond, just continuing to paint. Lovino smiled, walking over and carefully wrapping his arms around Feli's waist and placing his head on his shoulder. "Let me see." So far the once white canvas was covered in blues and green with splashes of yellow, brown and red to depict a meadow, the same meadow that Feliciano painted so often. "It's beautiful, fratello." Turning his head, he gave his brother a quick kiss on the cheek, to which the other responded with an affirmed hum.

This was the moment he loved. When it was just him and his brother together, with Roderich downstairs playing the piano, which was right below them so easily heard, and Elizaveta cooking, with delicious smells wafting up through the floors and in through the walls. This was the moment he treasured. "Liz says you asked about me?" Feli's hand paused for a split second before continuing, his throat making a small whine. Lovino kissed his cheek again. "I'm sorry I didn't tell you I was leaving. I know you were probably worried and I really didn't mean to. You remember that…that guy I told you about?" a slight nod. "W-Well, he called me and…I thought I'd just meet with him again…I don't know…" It wasn't like it had been a waste of time; it had just been really weird.

Feliciano whined again and Lovino smiled, hugging him close, feeling slight pride once again when he felt his little brother lean against him and stopped moving his brush. "Shhh, it's okay, fratello. I have you. I have you."

"I-I…m…missed…you."

"I missed you too, Feli. I promise I won't ever do that again, ok?" A nod. "Good, good." He held onto him a little longer before pulling back and leaning forward to kiss the top of his head. "Okay now, I do believe I smell your favorite cooking downstairs. Do you want to go and watch Liz cook? Maybe she'll let you help her again?"

"Y-Ya…"

"Alright, Feli, here, I'll take your brush then we'll go wash off some of this paint and take you down, si?"

"…si."

Lovino always felt happiness when Feli communicated with words. It was rare when he did so since he just didn't care for talking, which was sad, because Lovino just loved hearing him talk. "Okay, let's get you up." Holding the bush and palate in one hand, he held Feliciano's with the other and led him to the other side of his room towards the bathroom to help him wash the paint off everything. He hummed quietly to himself while he worked his hands to help Feli clean and after several minutes, the paint was gone and Lovino was pulling him back into the main room and towards the door. Feliciano shuffled with his eyes downcast and head slightly bent forward while Lovino made sure he didn't trip or run into anything, which he tended to do. At the door, Lovi left his slippers while Feli kept his on and they slowly made their way down the hall and to the stairs, where Roderich was coming up.

"Hello, Lovino, Feliciano."

"Hey, Rod. Feli, are you going to say hi?" the younger gave a small whine and Lovino tried not to sigh. Apparently he was done speaking for the day. "Feli's going to go see if Liz will let him cook again." Roderich nodded. "I see, well, she probably will. You did very well last time, Feliciano." Feli nodded. "I…like to…cook." That brought another smile to Lovino's face. "I'm glad, fratello, now let's go see if she'll let you. Come on." He gave a slight tug on the hand in his hold and once again they were on their way.

* * *

_Short, yes, i agree. Sorry, but i'm not sure what would happen after that. _

_If you followed and have questions, i can kinda answer them, but not a lot. _

_Yes, Feli is special, but it's not what you're thinking. I was going for an autism/asperger syndrome type deal with him, but, because i can, that is **NOT** what he has! It's what they **think **he has. Heehee~ So i can really do what i want with him and how he reacts to the world around him, using those as my base._

_Yes, it's a werewolf story. Read my A/N for Arise._

_Meh, vampires and other such creatures will be making appearances, i just have to plan that out better._

_Anything else? Well, give me some R&R then~_


	2. Carnevale

_Here is the next one, my friends~ _

_This story is something that i have had blumbling around my head for a while now~ It's based off a a picture (zerchan 809875) and all rights go to that person who made it because it is BEAUTIFUL! It had me enchanted by it for MONTHS~~~~_

_So, this will eventually become a story and this is the PRELUDE to that story (so when this point in the story comes, it will be between chapters because you already read it at that point~) it's title is jut what i called it at the time of writing it and might change depending. I'll let you know if it does~_

* * *

There were too many people to properly see anything other than the nations beside him, not to mention the costumes made it impossible to find them. Carnevale, one of the most exciting times to be in Italy, when everyone is dressed in costume and masks, seemed to be the worst time to be searching. They could be anywhere, even with a specific city and building, there was no chance that either of them would stick out or make themselves known. Hell, that was the whole point though. _He_ wanted it to be this way. _He_ wanted the nations to be lost within the crowds while his new _pets_ casually evaded them. It made Spain sick. How had this situation even come to be? How had no one noticed?

_Oh right, because they were normal until he decided to stop playing. That's when this nightmare began…_

Beside him, Germany growled in annoyance as the citizens and tourists danced around them without a care in the world. This ball was just another design in _his_ plan and clearly everyone else wanted to play along. The few nations that had come had split into pairs to search for the brothers, leaving Spain and Germany together since, technically, they were the only two actually invited. Then again the little handwritten note of 'bring as many guests as one wishes' on both invites was rather conspicuous, so it could be assumed that _he_ did want more nations to come, he just wanted it to hurt Spain and Germany the most.

"We won't be able to find them. This is impossible."

"_He_ invited us for a reason, Antonio. He wouldn't do that unless he wanted to dangle them in front of us and to do that-"

"-they have to be in sight. I know." He did know. This is all England had been saying since they arrived earlier that day and were swept away by the celebratory crowd. "I just don't understand why he's waiting! It's not like we can even do anything, they won't listen!"

"Just wait. It's already been forty-three minutes since the parade ended and this dance began. He's just making us sweat." Antonio nodded, letting his head hang down a bit. At least they wouldn't have a problem being found when the time was right.

He and Germany had gone with half masks, both done in colors that were obviously done with their homelands in mind. They wanted to be so easily recognized that any simple person could tell where they were from. Spain had gone with a yellow mask that had red jewels and feathers along with his extravagant matador outfit.

Germany wore a white mask that only covered the right side of his face and had a few black and red scrawling designs on it. His outfit was an old spare Teutonic Knight uniform that Prussia had found when he was looking for his. Since it was Gilbert's, the arms and chest were a little tight on the thicker German, but he didn't complain. He had to find Italy and that tromped what little discomfort he suffered with.

The two nations decided that they should probably walk around since that was what the others were doing and it would be more productive than standing there and looking out of place like they did. Keeping close to each other, they wandered around the large, medieval room, swerving around its many drunken occupants. It would be a lie to say the place wasn't magnificent. The ceilings were high and the windows were large, giving a beautiful view of the setting sun and the Italian landscape. Delicate chandeliers hug from the ceilings and shed light on the happy dancers while a large stage was set up towards the front where a stringed band was playing. A second story rested above them, easily seen from the balcony that hung above the back half of the room opposite the band. Both nations would have been lost to its beauty if they weren't desperately searching for their lost lovers.

Antonio let out another groan of annoyance as another forty minutes passed and all that had happened was that they'd run into a few other countries who'd had no luck either and five drunk, Italian women had tried to dance with either him or Germany. This was getting ridiculous! Already almost an hour and a half had gone by and there was no sign of either Italy. "Maldito! Germany this has to be a farce. It's been too long already! Something should have-"

His words died on his tongue as his vivid, emerald eyes locked on a familiar pair of hazel. Just a handful of meters away, standing still within the throng of moving bodies, stood a man wearing a dark red medieval tail coat with gold detail down the front and a black, frilly jabot collar that matched his black cuffs. Antonio barley took notice of his outfit though. He was drawn to his eyes, such remarkable eyes that had entranced him since the day Austria gave him over as a child.

Hidden behind a full, white face mask, with the eyes dripping black and a black feather cascading off the right side, was the true identity of this person, but Spain didn't need to guess. This was Italy Romano, the little nation he'd watched grow since childhood. It was actually him. _Lovino_. Their eyes remained locked, the rest of the world ceasing to exist as Spain was slowly pulled into a trance by those hazel eyes. He moved closer. His feet taking him where his mind couldn't process until he was just close enough to touch him, just a few more people to push aside when Lovino broke contact and was gone.

Spain froze, suddenly lost. Where had he gone? Shoving the remaining people out of the way, he stood where he knew his lover had just been and looked around, catching the swish of red to his left and fighting to run after it. _Wait for me, my love! I won't let you go!_

"Antonio!" Germany's yells did no good as the Spaniard was swept away into the crowd. "Scheiße!" What the fuck had just happened? Spain had stopped talking and when Germany turned to question him, he'd just started pushing through the people like he saw something. When trying to follow, Ludwig was held back by the clueless dancers until it was too late and Antonio was gone. "Dammit, Now what?"

He reached into his awkward outfit for his phone, about to text that he'd lost Spain when he felt someone run a hand down his back. Confused, he turned and deadpanned at the man standing a few feet away. Dressed similarly to his brother, Feliciano wore a blue coat with white jabot and cuffs. His mask covered only the top half of his face, the right side was white with a black points coming from the top and bottom of the eye while the left side was gold with red detail and black and red feathers coming out from the center.

"F-Feli?"

The half nation's lips were turned up into a smile while his amber eyes captivated Ludwig's azure. Ludwig was so entranced that he missed how the younger Italy was slowly backing up until he too turned away and disappeared from sight. The German blinked before he realized he'd just lost his lover again and, in a frenzy, he pushed and shoved to follow the woosh of blue that seemed to always catch the corner of his eye. He couldn't lose his lover again. Not when he was so close to having him back.

Like a moths, the two nations were drawn by their eyes towards the flame. Neither thought as their bodies took them towards either side of the room, the back corners where the crowds were thinner and no one was looking. So easily separated from their allies.

So easily manipulated.

He just saw him! He just fucking saw him so where did he go? Feliciano couldn't have just disappeared. That wasn't possible! "Feliciano?' Germany pushed aside a few civilians that happened to be in his line of travel. "Feliciano!" He yelled, receiving nothing but looks from the people around him, which he didn't even notice. His light blue eyes scanned the few people that were here at the back of the large room, the outskirts, as it were. This was all part of the game and games tended to test one's mind constantly. If Italy had been first found in the crowd, then perhaps he was not there this time. Germany frowned, turning towards the walls, searching for the blue clad nation that he sought.

Antonio spotted him, or at least what he knew had to have been Lovino, at the very back left corner of the ballroom. A door, one that probably shouldn't have existed, was placed in the side wall against the corner; its door was wide open, calling him to enter.

Stepping through the doorframe, he was met with a long, dark hallway that certainly had no place with the bright, joyous room behind him. _More of his 'magic'._ Ludwig's eyes narrowed, his sense of purpose blotting out any sense of fear and driving further him down the unnatural corridor. There was a reason for this and he would find it. He would find Feliciano.

As he neared the end, he noticed a soft candle light flickering against the ground and walls through an open doorway on his right. _This is it. I can feel it._ Straightening his back, Spain stepped through the portal and into a room parallel to the grand ballroom. Across from him was Germany, seeming to be in a similar position as himself, just with opposite turns involved.

The two looked at each other before turning to make out the dimly lit room, noticing some kind of mass that seemed to be in the center as candles on either side sprang to life.

"Lovi!"

"Feli!"

Both Italians sat calmly on the mass (a dark green couch), their masks in place and their bodies slightly rigid in their poses. As one, the heads slightly turned apart from each other, like a mirror, and their hands reached up to remove the masks.

Spain and Germany couldn't hold back the shock from how beautiful the Italians were; their skin held a pale glaze to it, their eyes seemed to shimmer with a color and brightness that was impossible in this world. _They don't look real._

"And they aren't, mister Germany. Thank you for noticing."

Behind the Italians, the figure of a man began to form. His face was covered by a dark mask, making his true identity unknown. It was hard to see much else as, despite the candles at either end of the couch in front of him, his body was still shrouded in darkness. All that Spain could make out was that he was taller than either himself or Germany and that he wore a dark cap that windlessly billowed around him. If he hadn't been so angry, he would have been terrified of the otherwise cliché villain before him.

The man gave a deep chuckle. "Yes, I know I must look rather cliché to you, but it is Carnevale. If one isn't making a fool of himself, then one is simply not doing it right. Now, please, if you don't mind…" He snapped his fingers and then gestured to two chairs opposite the couch that certainly hadn't been there before. "You are both my guests, in a manner of speaking, please have a seat. We have much to discuss." Antonio swallowed and looked over at Germany to see if they should take his offer or not, but Ludwig had his glare set strictly on the masked man in front of them as he began walking the few feet to the chairs. Antonio followed, hesitantly sitting down.

"Ah, good. Forgive me if I do not sit, but I prefer to stand. That way I can see everything."

"Who are you?" The German's deep voice cut through the atmosphere like an accusing knife.

"Cutting right to the point, I see. Who am I? You may call me Damian, although that is only one of my many names for, like yourselves, I am quite old. I will not say how far back my life extends, but I will inform you that I have much experience in this life and all it has to offer."

Antonio narrowed his eyes, unsure if he should believe him. "So what does that make you then? You aren't a nation."

"Oh, no! I am nothing like that. Consider me… a master of puppets."

"Excuse me?"

Damian smiled, the very formation of it sending a chill down Antonio's spine. "There are a few magickal things in the world, señor, like yourselves for example, and it takes a rather gifted mind to tap into them."

"A mind like yours?" Germany growled. "Indeed. A mind like mine." Antonio swallowed. "You call yourself a puppeteer and your first words were that they 'weren't real'…"

"Just take a moment and decide for yourselves what that means." They did. They looked across from them at the northern and southern halves of Italy, at their ridged poses, their dull and yet shining eyes, their glossy skin. Neither of them had moved since their masks had come off. Both stared out at nothing with their heads slightly tilted as if it was held up by a string. _Dios mio…_ "What did you do to them..? Are they even-"

"Oh, they are the nations that you believe they are. Mostly."

"Mostly? What the fuck does that mean? What did you do to them?! Cut this cryptic shit and start talking! That's what you want, isn't it? To gloat? Then start already!" The 'puppet master' sighed. "Alright then." Reaching out dramatically, Damian snapped both of his fingers and whispered "Sleep." Instantly, both Romano and Veneziano collapsed against the couch, their bodies bending in ways that should have been impossible for anything other than a ragdoll. Feliciano's head rested directly onto his shoulder while his body slumped to the side. Romano's torso slumped forward so that his arms dangled off the front of the couch.

Both Germany and Spain jumped to their feet in shock and outrage. "What the fuck was that?" "What are did you do?"

Damian raised his hands, silencing them. "I apologize, but the subject you ask to hear about upsets them. I am simply doing them a favor. Now please, sit." Grudgingly, the two nations did as they were told. "Good. How shall I begin?"

"You can start by saying what the hell you did to my boyfriend."

"Hmm, alright then. Simply put, they are under my spell by ways of dark magick." Spain frowned. That much was obvious. Damian chuckled. "Yes, well mind you, that was the simple version. In a more complex story, they are possessed by a brand of demon that I created, a lower level one to be specific, to serve and entertain me. Why, you ask? Well, that is my own business I'm afraid, but do not worry. You will find out soon enough."

Ludwig's eyes widened as he looked at the broken 'puppet' of his lover. "What the hell is wrong with you? Why the hell-" "I already answered that. I will not tell you why I did this, but I can give you a reason why your kind have now been put under my radar. It's a fascinating thing, your species. Nations that live and grow as their land; virtually immortal. That means, you last longer than the typical human."

"This kind of possession and black magick…it takes its toll on the body and soul. Wears them out. Just look at what it's done to the nation of Italy in a few short weeks. You wouldn't believe how many humans I went through until I heard about the nation personifications! I was just so curious that I had to see for myself what all the fuss was about. Little did I realize that I had found the perfect vessel for my demons."

"Their soul? You bastard! That's why you put them out for this! They're _in_ there! They can hear and see everything that's happening around them!"

"And feel and use their own minds! That is why they are them and yet not! Trapped inside their own minds unless I command them to come forth. They know everything and yet they are unable to move or breath or live. The demon lives for them and even then, it will only do as I say. Any broken rules and the creature of darkness will harm the true occupant of the body. It's beautiful, no?"

No, it wasn't. It was disgusting! Just what did this twisted fucker _do_ with these demons? What did he make Lovino and Feli do against their will. "H-How? How did you even do this?"

"Every one of you has something inside them that I can latch onto. I know because I've already done this. I have been inside every nation's mind and found what I can use against you. I've even picked out a special demon for each of you because, it's as I said, each one of you will fall into this little trap of mine. That is why I will speak so freely about this. Tell your friends; inform them of what is to come. All of you will be mine. Every. Single. One."

* * *

_Intense, no? That ending is still weird. Sorry._

_So, i have some news for you all. **Better Than I Know Myself,** the story that i had been rping with Youruglyduckling and that was uploaded to her account will now be moved to mine. The reason? Well, she and i had a falling out. The story (as in the FIRST trilogy) is done, but we started (like JUST started the second 'book' of the second trilogy (which might or might not get posted at all). So i have it all and i will be re-editing it and be posting it here with the same title and little 'glimps' thing that you write. Just an FYI~_

_R&R_


	3. Reflection of the Past

_As much as I would LOVE to give you my utmost apologizes for being a lazy little shit, i think you're already heard it before and honestly, i think you know the drill with me by now. So I am sorry, but life is a bitch and writing is hard to get into, which is odd to say, yet so true. _

_Well, updates for me I guess~ _

_I have a few new stories creeping up in my mind that beg to be written out. This is one of them. I just have to write more...It is based off of a picture actually, but that will come later when I make the separate space for the story. Enjoy_

* * *

It wasn't like he couldn't remember the spell; he could, he just couldn't remember it _correctly_. Not that anyone else would even believe him in the first place, but he'd actually done this particular conjuring before and it had been absolutely perfect! He just…couldn't remember _how_ perfect.

"Bugger this memory!" England slammed his current spell book closed and pushed it aside. The spell he was looking for wasn't in this one either. "Where the hell is it? I had to have written it down somewhere…"

Perhaps at one time he had, but as to where those words were, England once again, had no clue. He knew it was somewhere, but he didn't know where exactly. Why was that? Sure he was an older nation and his memory had quite an extensive amount of knowledge in it. Sure he had used and preformed a decent portion of spells throughout his existence. But neither of those reasons really helped as to why his mind was so fuzzy on this particular conjuring.

Entering the parallel plane was never something England had particularly enjoyed, but what he needed to do was so drawn into that other world, that he needed a specific incantation to access it. No other filler would do. He needed _that_ spell and that spell only. It was just a shame that his mind seemed to have blocked that from his consciousness.

England paused, pulling at that fleeting thought. What if he _had_ blocked it for some reason? What if it had been so powerful, so dangerous, that he had attempted to erase its very existence from his past? "It obviously didn't work though since I can bring the point of the spell to mind. Either that or it wore off." That made since. Certain spells, memory loss ones to be exact, tended to wear off after a few hundred years. _Humans never have a problem with that though, do they_? Sometimes it was worth it to be mortal, like during a time such as this when an memory parts started to return.

He did figure that letting the spell go was for the best then. If he had blocked it, then the effects must have been brutal enough that he never wanted to try it again. But, as these things tend to not go quietly, he knew he was just going to end up thinking about it for the rest of the night. It was, after all, the very reason he decided to work on his conjuring for the past few nights. Images that were still so fuzzy and unclear had brought forth emotions of pride and joy that he desperately wanted to rekindle. It was only on tonight's spell ramblings that he realized that the spell that would accomplish his desire was impossible to perform. Knowing this though was only going to make it worse and England knew it. He couldn't just _forget_ that spell or that accomplished desire to re-perform it again after so long. He would need to block it again.

Of course though, he would need to know what the spell was in order to do that, which meant he would have to tap into his memories, blocked and unblocked, to discover the source, which he would have to do whether he wanted to block it or use it, so that very thought alone was enough to make him groan. Now was the moment he would have to decide. Either way, he was going to look for that spell. Either way he would know how to work it and reach into the parallel world. Would he then use it or block it?

"I need a cuppa…" The Brit stood from his coffee table and went into his kitchen, straight for the cabinet where his tea bags were clearly labeled. Decafe was certainly not on his list of wants tonight, so regular black tea it was. Lady Grey was always a great choice, plus it happened to be closest to him at the moment, so that was what he would have.

Several minutes and 'calming' sips later, England found himself back in his previous conundrum. To use or block the spell. The more he thought about it, the more he wanted to know what it did. The fact that it entered the parallel world and was a spell of conjuring seemed to be almost a reflex from his mind. Despite not knowing the full detail of how it worked or what exactly it did, he felt that he knew what he was doing and would be quite comfortable with saying it. Plus he was so, so, _so_ curious now.

On the other hand, the spell was obviously dangerous and he knew that he should figure it out and destroy it immediately. He had blocked it for a reason, at whatever point and time that he had done that, and now that he was about to re-discover it, he should repeat his old actions and remove it from his mind so that he could properly prepare the next few days of meetings with the other countries. God knew that he had been wasting so much time looking for an obviously dangerous spell instead of preparing like he should have been doing.

"Bollocks! I'll just get rid of the damn thing before it drives me anymore insane." He put his tea down and walked over to the nearest mirror. _When entering the mind, always see it with your eyes._ He stared into his green-eyed reflection and thought about the spell.

**_I seek a thought, a memory in time,_**

**_Bring it to me so I may witness what was lost._**

Images immediately began to pass over his mind's eye, taking him back in time to the only moment the spell had ever been cast.

There were stars dotting the ink black sky, clearly visible even with all the glowing lanterns that surrounded his invisible self. England looked around from his spot on the quarter deck of a ship, _his_ ship, noticing all the oddly silent chaos from the men below on the main deck. The sound from his ears was gone, but he could still see all the movement from everyone scrambling about, fighting, and that's when England realized that he was witnessing a siege. Drawn down the stairs towards the fighting, he walked through the people in search of his past self, finding him rather easily amongst the crowd as the humans seemed to part, forming a circle around him and another man, kneeling before him.

It wasn't all that surprising to see Spain looking a little worse for the wear at his past self's knees. What was rather surprising was to see the expression on his face; a look of pure enjoyment matched with the insanity glowing out from his eyes. The sheer power that wafted off him was enough to even make the present day England cringe. _What the bloody hell is going on with me?_ Sure he'd been rather unreasonable from the power and wealth of his pirating days, but this seemed almost unnerving to watch. His past self's lips moved, the silent words mocking the destroyed Spanish captain as a smirk distorted his features. Spain replied with, what had to be, his a last attempt to redeem himself. The red pirate just smirked wider before his lips moved again and his power increased. The magick around the two pirate nations reached an intense level that drew the attention of every human on the ships, that pulsed within the air and poisoned it, before it exploded and England was forced back into the present.

Back in his living room, his hand's gripped the ledge of the wall mirror he was staring into tightly, enough to crack the fancy marble. His eyes were wide, his face was pale and his body shook from the chill that slide down his body with the sweat beads. That amount of power he witnessed…he didn't possess that. There was no way that had been him, unless…"I blocked magick away too."

He had no memory of that confrontation with Spain. None. Everything from that night was blocked from him. Whatever had happened that night was definitely /never/ meant to be repeated. He himself made sure of that at some point after the night he saw. "Well, at least now I know I made my mind up. Too bad I still have no bloody clue what that spell was..." He turned from the mirror and stumbled. His limbs trembled just from a glimpse of that spell and that amount of magick. It was insane to think that /that/ person he had seen was his pirate self. He had been so strong. So powerful. What had happened? _Spain might know…although, he might not want to talk about it or even remember it. If I feel like _this _and I witnessed a silent memory…_what would it have been like to be kneeling before such a powerful creature?

"Bloody hell…" England pulled himself back up and made his way back to the table to grab his tea. Honestly, he didn't even want it anymore. Somehow, the taste was no longer appeasing. It felt wrong almost. He'd been so strong and powerful and…absolutely terrifying! No wonder he toned himself down into the fine gentleman he was today.

Walking over to the sink, he felt his mind stop when he noticed the clock now read one o'clock in the morning. "B-But I did that at eleven!" Two hours. Witnessing those few minutes had taken two hours from his life. Two hours he would never get back from this blasted, _addicting_, distraction.

Wanting to rid himself of these past few days and get some proper rest, he headed off to bed.

When he awoke the next day, it was to realize that everything from last night was still there, fresh in his memory. _How can I focus on a meeting when I have this floating around in my head?_ Letting out a groan, he lifted himself from bed and went to get ready for the meeting that was to take place in…exactly five hours. It was always good to get ready early; even better now considering his mental state.

What England expected was to get ready, quickly throw things into a suitcase and then head off to France for the week long meetings that he would be attending. Once there, he would be annoyed by everyone until the end when he could return home and try to fix the magickal mishaps that had occurred.

What he didn't expect was to be putting on his jacket and notice that he had a double reflection in his wall mounted mirror. He saw his own, straight on, reflection out of the corner of his eye; with one arm half in the sleeve of his jacket and the dumbfounded expression on his face as he gazed at his double, who stood a little off to the side and slightly behind his actual image. The other's green eyes were narrowed into a glare while the lips formed into a cruel smile.

Then it moved.

England's head met the glass.

* * *

_So who else has ever been in Artie's position? (not the...seeing a double and...getting knocked out by said double...AND NO THAT ISN'T HIS BLOODY 2P SO DON'T ASK!) But like the "i know there is something i thought of/seen that i REALLY don't want to relive but DAMN do i NEED to relive it"? I know I have...somethings one just cannot unsee..._

_But there ya have it. An update from me. There is another that i have ideas for and hopefully i can get some chunks typed out and put here soon...the least I can do is make my "Chapter from a Demonology textbook __(or a Hunter's Journal, for all of you Supernatural fans out there)_" on here~


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